


We All Need Somebody

by brinnabot



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Cinematic Universe, DCU
Genre: Adoption, Batfleck - Freeform, Batman - Freeform, F/M, Gen, It's not THAT violent, Original Character(s), Superman - Freeform, there will be some blood and fight scenes but it's not crazy graphic, wonder woman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6440905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinnabot/pseuds/brinnabot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Bruce Wayne adopts the little girl he saves at the beginning of Batman v Superman and how their lives play out after</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "The World Is Introduced To The Superman"

**Author's Note:**

> I've written fics before but have never published, so this is my first official one!  
> This fic starts with Bruce's point of view of Metropolis being attacked by the Kryptonians, and will go along with the story line of the movie so SPOILERS FOR BATMAN v SUPERMAN!  
> I'm not done with it yet so there will be chapters added over time.  
> Hope you all enjoy it!

The city was falling. 

The air was heavy with the thick dust of cement, smoke, and plaster, making it difficult to breathe. Moments earlier, the large alien ship looming over even the highest skyscrapers had broken apart and disappeared, but the damage being done was far from over. Crowds gathered in the streets, terrified and unsure of what to do or where to go as they watched building after building crumble. What do you do when the world is literally falling apart around you?

Bruce watched as one of his buildings was sliced and ripped apart by one of the Kryptonians, his heart almost giving out when he realized his friend was still inside. The sharp cracking and shattering of the building’s foundation ripped through him like a knife, and without a thought he found himself running towards the cloud of smoke that lay in the building’s wake. A few moments after he entered the dust, everything around him seemed to go deathly quiet. Bruce coughed and attempted to block his eyes from the thick haze. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, or why he even bothered to run straight into the blast, but he still frantically tried to make out anything of importance amidst the rubble. His ears wouldn’t stop ringing, but the sounds of screaming could be made out from a distance…

“Mr. Wayne!”

The air started to clear enough to reveal a man trapped underneath a large metal bar, and Bruce instantly focused in on him. The man called again. “Mr. Wayne!” Running over to his trapped employee, he saw that the man’s legs were practically crushed by the weight of the bar. The man’s name-tag read ‘Wallace’. He leaned down next to Wallace, throwing him a small comforting smile. “Hey, Wallace is it? Do they call you Wally?”

Wallace gave no answer but just kept repeating, “I can’t feel my legs, I can’t move my legs!” Bruce beckoned over two individuals he saw a few feet away and got ready to lift the bar. He looked up at his two helpers, nodded, and said, “Alright, one, two, three!” On his count of three, he lifted the bar off Wallace’s legs, grunting slightly at the weight. Once he saw that Wallace was out and free, he dropped it to the ground and it landed with a loud and ringing thud. Bruce stood up, sharply exhaling a sigh of relief and dusting his hands off. 

A loud metallic groan from about 30 feet away got his attention as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Huge slabs of cement with large metal rods sat in a mangled pile where the noise came from: remnants of Bruce’s building. But he caught sight of a small child, standing completely petrified, in an open clearing as a slab of stone started to give way above them. Instinctually, Bruce found himself using all his strength to reach the clearing. Fear and adrenaline coursed heavily through his limbs and things seemed to move in slow motion as he made his way over to the clearing. The creaking of the wreckage grew louder and louder until finally it came crashing down not even a second after Bruce forcefully grabbed the child and got them both to safety. Panting heavily, he unwrapped his arms and looked down at the small and terrified face he had just rescued. It was a young girl, her dark hair messy and dirty, her pink and grey shirt coated in a layer of dust and dirt. Tears started to pool in her hazel eyes, but she didn’t cry.

Still crouched next to her, Bruce gently cupped her face in his left hand while he tucked the hair that was in her face behind her ear with his right hand. His breathing started to slow as the adrenaline died down and he was able to take everything in: both she and him were alright.

“Hey, hey you’re alright”, he spoke to her finally, his voice soft. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” The girl sniffled, a single tear falling. Bruce gently wiped it away with his thumb. “We’re going to find your mom, okay? Where is she?” In response to his question, the girl slowly turned towards the wrecked building and pointed up.

Following her finger, Bruce gazed up and saw for the first time just what Superman was capable of. Barely half of the structure was left standing, with sporadic and jagged scars running along every face of it, sparks of electricity shooting out from every cut wire. Bruce’s fear was replaced by anger that quickly rooted itself deeply in his already bruised heart.

Thunderous booms tore Bruce’s attention away from the wreckage, and he quickly looked over and up into the sky just as dozens of pieces of burning debris broke the atmosphere and started making their way down to the surface of the planet. The girl stood in front of him, shaking from fear, so he protectively pulled her towards him as her small arms wrapped around his neck, and her face buried into his shoulder. His gaze, however, never left the sky, and he caught glimpses of red amidst the falling comets. His face hardened with the realization that these “super-men” had taken so much, both from him and the people of this city. He ever so slightly tightened his grip around the girl as the comets and Kryptonians fell out of sight.

Bruce started to release his grip on the girl, but he felt that her hold on him did not falter, so he simply curled one strong arm around her and slowly stood up. With his free arm, he gently stroked her hair and looked around for the best way to get them out of the rubble. A quick smile appeared and disappeared across his lips when he looked down at her for a moment. “So, little lady,” he still spoke calmly and softly to her, “What’s your name?” She didn’t answer. While he waited for a reply he started to make his way towards an opening in the debris field, taking each step very carefully. He could tell the girl was still shaking, still scared, so he decided to keep talking to her. “My name is Bruce. A lot of people call me Mr. Wayne but you’re my friend, so you get to call me Bruce.” He ducked under a low piece of concrete, gently covering her head as he moved forward.

“My favorite color is blue, like the color of my shirt.” Bruce continued to ramble on, hoping it helped to keep her calm and focused. Her grip around his neck was strong and unwavering as her maneuvered through the wreckage. “And, silly enough, my favorite animals are bats.” Now the girl peeked out one eye from her hiding spot, frantically looking around but still not saying a word.

After some careful maneuvering, the two finally cleared most of the large broken slabs of rubble. With his eyes slowly scanning the area, Bruce took in the surrounding damage: crushed cars, broken street lights, and lots of scared and injured people. The piece of falling concrete that almost fell on the girl blocked them from getting back to where Bruce had left his car, but he quickly realized that the streets were too busy and broken for a car to be of any use.

The girl shifted and turned her head to face forward, still hanging on to Bruce’s neck. He looked down at her. “Hey, there’s that pretty little face!” He wiped away some tears on her face; she had been crying. He started walking forward again and asked her, “Are you ready to tell me your name?”

“Maggie”, she answered quietly. She sniffled and then spoke again, “Bruce?”

“Yes, Maggie?”

“I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” Bruce replied, stopping to look around and figure out where to go next. The hospital? Or should he just go home and worry about finding her family once he’s there?  
“I’m scared, too.”

\--

Luck appeared to be on their side for the moment, as Bruce’s phone still had some juice left and there was still an intact helicopter pad not far from where he had picked up Maggie. It took a few tries, as everyone in the city was frantically calling family members and hospitals for help, but he finally managed to get a call through to Alfred who sent a helicopter for them.

“Listen Alfred, this girl… We need to see if she has anyone left to go back to. Her mother works.. worked in my building on 17th street. Last name of Bates,” he paused for a moment to look over to the seat next to him where Maggie had fallen asleep only a few moments into their helicopter ride. He wished he had a blanket for even a jacket to put over her but he found his hands empty of any such comfort. Alfred spoke up on the other end of the line, “A first name would be helpful, Master Wayne.”

“She uh… she didn’t tell me her mother’s first name before she fell asleep. You’re resourceful, Alfred. You’ll find her.” Bruce leaned his head back against the seat and combed his hair back with his free hand. He suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion seep into every part of his body. “And Alfred?” He hoped his friend was still listening.

“Yes, sir?” He was.

“Could you uh, get some food that you think she would like? I fear the house isn’t exactly kid friendly.” Bruce chuckled nervously at the thought.

“Of course, sir. It’ll do us both some good to have youthful energy in the house.” Alfred’s tone was snarky and sarcastic but Bruce knew that he meant well.

“Thank you, Alfred. I’ll call when we’re close to landing.” After ending the call, Bruce let his hands drop heavily onto the seat next to him, feeling his eyes droop.

\--

Gotham seemed so silent and peaceful compared to the chaos they had escaped. They flew over the city until the buildings gave way to trees and open fields. The new Wayne manor was definitely a sight to see, a magnificent creation right next to the water. It almost didn’t seem right to be in such a peaceful place while there were so many people running scared for their lives. But Bruce chose to be thankful and focus his energy on getting Maggie home.

Alfred gave him and Maggie a warm greeting once they landed and made their way inside the house. Maggie rubbed her eyes as Bruce carried her through the front door, as she had woken up just moments before. Bruce quickly introduced her and Alfred to each other, told her everything was going to be okay, and then Alfred took her from his arms. As he secured Maggie in place in his grip, Alfred gave Bruce a tablet which was already loaded with information for him to read. 

Bruce watched as Maggie was carried away to get cleaned up and fed, and as soon as they were out of sight, he turned his attention to the tablet he was given. His heart and chest tightened as soon as he realized what Alfred had found. “Shit.” He set the tablet down on a nearby counter and sat himself down at the table in the kitchen, facing the water.

Unless Maggie’s mother miraculously survived the destruction of the building, Maggie had no one left to go home to. Her father was never in her life, and almost no information could be found on him. Maggie’s mother, Sarah, had no siblings and her parents lived in a community home across the country and were in their late 80’s. The records show that Sarah and Maggie hadn’t visited them since Maggie was a newborn, leading Bruce to believe the family wasn’t close. It was the worst case scenario for the little girl.

About 10 minutes passed while Bruce sat at that table, his eyes unfocused as he looked over the water through the wall of glass in front of him. His thoughts darted from one place to another, from contemplating what the right thing for Maggie was to what should be done about the super-human species plaguing the cities. Frustration overcame him and he forcefully pushed the table away with a loud screech as he stood up. He couldn’t fix everything, at least not today, and it was getting to him. After retrieving a bottle of wine, he popped the cork and began pouring himself a hefty glass.

“Miss Magnolia, where are you going!” Alfred’s low voice echoed in from a few rooms down, and suddenly Maggie burst into the kitchen and started running towards Bruce. She came crashing into him, tightly hugging his leg. Stunned, Bruce set the wine bottle down, unsure of what to do next. He noticed she was wearing a new, clean set of clothes that were slightly too big for her. Most likely Alfred thought ahead and bought her clothes along with the shopping he asked him to do. Her hair was soaking wet and dripping onto the floor but was also messy and tangled. Still standing up, he asked her, “Maggie… What’s wrong? I promise my friend Alfred won’t-”

“He wanted to comb my hair, Bruce,” she answered, her voice cracking like she was about to cry. “My mom always combs my hair for me, I want her to do it. I want to go home.”

Bruce found himself unable to speak. While he had been worrying about everything all at once, he didn’t stop to think about things from Maggie’s point of view. To her, it wasn’t just a few buildings that came crashing down today, it was her entire world along with everything she knew and loved. It was in that moment that he decided: it wasn’t that Maggie didn’t have a home to go back to, it was that she was already home.

Alfred then appeared in the doorway, a defeated look on his face and a black comb in his left hand. He stopped once he saw where Maggie had run off to. Bruce was looking down at her with a soft expression that Alfred had never seen on him before. Emotions flooded back to him from some decades ago when Bruce was just as broken and lost as little Maggie. But seeing the two of them in the kitchen, watching Bruce kneel down and try to calm Maggie’s hair with his hands and get it out of her face, he felt a glimmer of hope. After a day of such tragedy and destruction, and even though the struggles were far from over, there was this small moment of love that meant everything to the two people who needed it.

Maybe, just maybe, these two lost souls were always meant to find each other.


	2. What Makes You Happy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins roughly 2 years after the first chapter, just like the jump made in the movie, and we see Bruce delving deeper into the chaos being spun by Lex Luthor.  
> We all know the dark, angry, and brutal Bruce Wayne from the movie, but we all know he has a softer side.  
> As the story starts to unfold, it's important to remember that he has things to live for and be grateful for even if doesn't acknowledge them outright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE KIND COMMENTS AND KUDOS ON CHAPTER ONE!!!  
> This fic includes the headcanon (that I personally enjoy) that in the DC universe, Marvel comics are available (and vice versa), but the heroes aren't real (of course). Had to squeeze in my love for The Avengers somewhere!  
> For anyone wondering, I pinned Maggie as about 6 years old in the first chapter, so now she'll be about 8.  
> Also, I know Bruce's bedroom in the movie is basically a room of glass, but I took some liberties with the structure of his entire place. This is an AU! And he has a kid now, so he's a bit more modest.

_**“As the cases start to stack up, members of the community have started to pass around the word ‘vigilante’ in reference to the so called ‘Gotham Bat’. To some, this mysterious individual may be considered the only true form of justice. To others, however, justice may be best left to the officials. While the criminals being caught by the Bat have almost exclusively been sex-traffickers, rapists, and murder suspects, the recent development of brand marks being found on the suspects make us wonder: is this vigilante going too far, or not far enough?”  
** _

The time was 8:27 pm according to Bruce’s watch. Every night, or at least the nights he wasn’t caught up in something more dangerous, he sat here in his lavish living room to watch the news and sip a glass of Scotch. Alfred warned him about seeing too much of himself on the TV screen, as according to him it would only inflate his already bursting ego, but Bruce thought it was important to keep up with the public’s opinion on the ‘Gotham Bat’.

After checking the time, he picked up the glass in front of him, took a sip, and sat back against the couch to listen to the Bat monologue. He loosened his tie (which today was a simple grey), unbuttoned the top of his shirt, and rolled up the sleeves of his plain white shirt. He felt tired and actually looked it for once. It had been a long day even without his crime fighting duties.

“BRUUUUCE!!”

The loud galloping of two small feet came pounding into the room as Maggie excitedly screamed his name. Almost out of instinct, Bruce put his glass down on the table in front of him and pushed it far away from the edge (dozens of spills have trained him to preemptively act) just as the little girl leaped into the seat next to him. She bounced a few times before plopping her butt on the cushion, her little legs dangling and kicking.

“Hey my little Magster!” Bruce turned and ruffled her hair, to which she giggled and teasingly slapped his hand away. “What’s gotten you in such a good mood right before bedtime?”

Maggie smiled brightly up at him and whisked a piece of paper, which she had been hiding behind her back, into Bruce’s face. “I made this for you at school today during free time!” She was almost yelling from excitement.

Taking the slightly crumpled paper from her, Bruce saw that she had drawn a bat big enough to cover the whole sheet. A smile peaked up from the corner of his mouth as he looked at his gift. Looking up over the drawing he said, “You remembered my favorite animal. This is beautiful, Mags, thank you very much.” He leaned down to scoop her into a big hug, but before he could she was already up and jumping on the cushions again.

Setting down the drawing and folding his arms, he looked up at the bouncing girl. “Hey hey, what did I say about jumping on the couch?”

Maggie plopped back down next to him after his reminder. “I just wanted to see if I could fly, like the Superman!”

A cold shiver went down Bruce’s spine at the mention of Superman. During a moment of silence in the room, the newscaster's voice rang through:

_**“After this next break we’ll look at the Superman’s latest heroics and just how the world has benefitted from the Man of Steel’s extraordinary feats.”** _

“See! There he is,” she flung her arm up, pointing at the TV screen, “All my friends at school say that he’s a real superhero! David told me-”

“There’s no real superheroes, Maggie,” Bruce interrupted her, “Superman can fly but that doesn’t mean he’s a hero.” Both he and Maggie fell silent at this moment. He sighed and looked over at her. “Why don’t you get ready for bed now, okay?”

Jumping off from her seat on the couch, Maggie turned to face him. Before she had a chance to do anything else, Bruce blurted out, “And yes, you can have a cookie. And then you can tell Alfred that mine are better than his, huh?”

Maggie giggled and ran off in the direction of the kitchen, quickly turning back to yell a “Thank you!” back at him. He yelled back at her, “Make you sure to brush your teeth really well tonight! And only take one!”

Bruce let Maggie enjoy her cookie and get ready for bed while he tried to unwind some more in the living room. After about 15 minutes he found his glass empty and the house quiet except for the quiet murmur of the news still playing in the background. Time to tuck Maggie in for the night. Getting up, he made his way through a hallway, up some stairs, and headed over to a door covered in drawings made by the one and only Maggie herself. Recently her favorite things have been the Avengers cartoon series on TV, so she was drawing Captain America shields and Black Widow symbols (she was Maggie’s favorite). Among all the fictional characters and comic book heroes he noticed a big red S, the Kryptonians symbol, as a new edition to her door. After a pause, Bruce knocked lightly on her door. “Ready to be tucked in, Mags?”

“Yupp!” He heard her little voice carry through the door, so he opened it and went in.

“So,” he sat down on the edge of her bed, “aren’t my cookies the best?”

Maggie looked down and shrugged. “Ehhh. But it was still yummy!”

Bruce playfully shook his head and laughed. “Ah, well. I guess I can’t be good at everything. But I’ll beat Alfred someday,” he pulled the covers up over Maggie’s legs, “Did you brush your teeth?”

“Of course!” She took the edge of the blankets and wrapped them around her shoulders. “Can I ask you something, Bruce?”

Pausing for a moment, Bruce let go of the blankets and looked over at her.

“A lot of my friends at school talk about their parents, and their dads, but my momma said once that my daddy lived far away. She said I didn’t need a dad.” Maggie’s little brown and green eyes looked up at him. She wasn’t sad, but she felt like something wasn’t right and Bruce could see that.

Bruce tucked away some loose hair behind her ear. “Remember how I said that Alfred took care of me when I was a few years older than you?” He smiled warmly and she nodded. “Not everyone has their parents around, just like you and me. But we are still okay, and nobody should make you feel bad for that.”

“You are like my dad now, aren’t you Bruce?”

For a moment, it seemed like Bruce’s heart stopped. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s my job to make sure that you’re happy and safe and healthy.”

“And that’s what dads are supposed to do, right?” Maggie smiled up at him as he confirmed her thoughts and ideas.

“Yes, that’s what dads are supposed to do Maggie.”

“Then can I call you dad?” Her voice was filled with anticipation and hope.

Bruce took in the importance of what Maggie was asking him, and suddenly felt tears start to pool. “Oh, Mags,” he leaned down and scooped her into his arms, blanket and all, “Of course you can call me dad.” As he was hugging her, he felt her wiggle her arms out of the blanket and wrap around his neck, hugging him back. The tears couldn’t be stopped once that happened, and Bruce found himself happily crying as he hugged his daughter. “Thank you, Maggie.”

After a few moments of their embrace, Maggie sat back down on her bed and Bruce hastily wiped away the tears on his face. They shared a quick conversation about how he had to go into work early tomorrow and that Alfred would be waking her up, and that her lunch was already made and in the fridge. Bruce got up and headed out the door, but before he left he peeked his head back in with a huge smile across his face. “Goodnight, sweety, sleep well.”

Maggie smiled right back at him. “Goodnight, dad!”

\--

Maggie and Bruce both went about their day, with Alfred helping keep them both organized as usual. After school was over, Maggie was sitting at the kitchen table working on her math homework when the doorbell rang. After having answered it, Alfred entered the kitchen and set down a small bunch of white flowers. 

Peering up curiously from her homework, thankful for the distraction, she saw Alfred put down a small card and say, “They are for you, Miss Magnolia.” He put the bouquet in a small vase and exited the room. Upon further inspection, you could see that all of the flowers were magnolias.

Getting up excitedly from her seat, Maggie ran over and grabbed the card from the counter, having to get up on her tip-toes in the process. The card read, _‘For my little flower. Love, Dad’._

\--

For a few weeks things were pretty slow around the Wayne house. This week especially though, as Maggie had a few days off from school. She noticed how boring her days could get when her dad wasn’t around and she wasn’t in school, so she set a special task for herself one evening.

Slowly, the door to Bruce’s room opened with a low creak. Light from the hallway cut through into the sunset-lit room as Maggie poked her head in and peered around. The coast was clear; her father was nowhere to be found, and so she entered and shut the door behind her as quietly as she could.

While making her way over to a second door, she noticed a black shirt sitting on the bed. It was hanging off the bed, almost to the point of it hitting the floor, as if it was thrown away in a hurry. Thinking that Bruce had possibly already picked out some clothes for tonight, which is what Maggie had gone in there to do, she ventured away from the door and over to the bed. Upon inspection of the shirt, she felt that it was made of a durable and stretchy fabric. Picking it up fully, a large slash could be seen on one of the sleeves, and dried blood could be seen around the edges where the fabric tore. Maggie stood there at the edge of the bed, shirt in hand, confused beyond words.

“I have to get changed,” Bruce’s voice was suddenly heard, muffled, through the door of his bedroom, “Where’s Maggie?” She panicked; he was home earlier than she anticipated.

“I believe she is playing in her bedroom, Master Wayne.” Alfred’s voice sounded from farther away.

Hastily dropping the shirt, Maggie headed for the door, hoping to beat her dad out of his room and into hers. But before she even got close to the door, it opened and in came Bruce who was carrying his suit jacket and loosening his tie. After turning on the light and closing the door behind him, he jumped with a startled gasp at the sight of his small daughter standing directly in front of him.

“Sorry dad,” Maggie quickly blurted out, frozen in the middle of the room.

“Wha.. Oh gosh what are you doing in here, Mags? You scared me half to death!” His hand was over his heart, still startled.

Maggie’s eyes darted from the black shirt and then up to look at Bruce. “I wanted to have your outfit picked out for you before you got home,” she was speaking very quietly, afraid she had made a big mistake, “It always takes you a long time to figure out what to wear to your big parties, so I wanted to help.”

A small smirk emerged on Bruce’s face as he chuckled at her response. “Oh, oh alright I see, you just wanted to get me out of the house faster because Alfred always lets you stay up later, right?”

At this point Maggie couldn’t help but smile and giggle herself. She cocked her head off to the side teasingly. “He lets me have _two_ cookies, that’s why!”

Bruce finished loosening his tie and took it off, then bent down to be at Maggie’s level. “Alright little lady, you want to help, go right ahead.” He then swung the tie over her neck, where it hung loosely.

Immediately after he gave her his tie, Maggie ran over to the door she was originally heading for and swung it open to reveal a moderately sized walk-in closet. “I know exactly what suit you should wear tonight!”

Standing up after he heard Maggie start to shuffle through his suits, Bruce made his way over to the closet and walked in just as she stopped and shouted, “This one!”

Pushing the other hung up suits away from the one she singled out, Maggie pointed to the one of her choice: it was a deep sapphire, the only one of its kind in Bruce’s collection.

After a few minutes of asking her which shirt, shoes, and even what watch he should wear, they finally agreed on his entire outfit. Maggie was quite satisfied with herself. Before she left the room, she asked if she could wear the tie for a bit longer, to which he told her she could keep it as long as she liked. She happily skipped out of the room and shut the door behind her.

Walking out of the closet with his night attire in hand, Bruce noticed his black shirt crumpled up by the side of his bed. After setting his suit down he went and picked it up, studying it curiously, trying to remember how it got there. Once he noticed the slash on the sleeve, he remembered that he had brought this shirt up to his room last night to be either cleaned and fixed or just thrown out, but forgot about it before any of those things happened.

Then Bruce remembered how stunned Maggie had been when he walked into his room and caught her just a few minutes earlier. A rush of anxiety hit him when he realized that Maggie might have seen the shirt and the gash it had acquired, but he didn’t have time to worry about that right now. He quickly threw it up on one of the highest shelves in his closet and shut the door.

After unbuttoning and taking off his shirt, a large bandage could be seen wrapped around his left arm, right around where the slash in the black one could be found. A small amount of blood had bled through the bandage, so Bruce carefully unwrapped the wound and rebound it with a clean bandage. It was obvious that the cut was deep and fresh, as it had only happened the night before. But now was not the time to worry about that, either.

After dressing himself, he walked downstairs to say goodbye and leave. Finding Maggie in the living room watching her cartoon Avengers, and seeing that she was still wearing his tie and even tightened it around her neck, he kissed the top of her head and wished her a good night.

“Which car are you taking tonight, dad?” She looked up at him inquisitively.

“Oh I think you know which one!” He ruffled her hair, smiled, and then made his way to the front door, where Alfred was waiting for him with his keys.

Alfred looked him up and down while handing the keys over. “Naturally, you wear the brightest suit you own when going undercover, how smart of you.”

Bruce snatched the keys he was being handed and gave Alfred a glare with his eyebrows raised. “Thank you, Alfred. Always a pleasure.”

\--

Lex Luthor’s place was bustling with people moving here and there, glasses being lightly clinked together, and the moderate buzz of conversation. Bruce had planted his device a few moments before and found himself slightly anxious as he waited for the download to finish.

“Mr. Wayne!”

After a moment’s pause of deciding whether to acknowledge the individual calling his name or not, Bruce turned around and met eyes with them. The man was handsome, young, and seemed pleasant enough.

Smiling at Bruce and adjusting his glasses, the man introduced himself, “Mr. Wayne! Clark Kent of The Daily Planet.” He then held out his hand.

Bruce shook the reporter’s hand, suddenly getting distracted by a woman in a maroon dress, who he had noticed earlier, walk seamlessly through the crowd and down the stairs. A few beats pass as his gaze followed her as she passed out of sight.

“Wow,” Bruce kept his gaze on the stairs, smirking, “Pretty girl, bad habit. Don’t quote me.” He finally turned his gaze back to the man in front of him. The media only knew him as the handsome billionaire Bruce Wayne; he had to keep up appearances.

“What’s your position on the Bat-vigilante in Gotham?” Clark didn’t miss a beat, completely ignoring Bruce’s comment, “He thinks he’s above the law.”

Bruce glared at him, his frustration rising. “The Daily Planet criticizing those who think they are above the law is a bit hypocritical, don’t you think? Your people write a puff-piece every time your beloved alien hero so much as shows his face in public. What people don’t seem to realize, or at least don’t want to let themselves see, is that this hero could destroy the entire planet if he felt the inclination to.”

Clark’s face grew tense and harsh at Bruce’s words. He opened his mouth to comment but Bruce cut him off.

“Don’t go chasing stories you can’t handle, son,” Bruce continued to glare at the other man, “And don’t believe everything you hear.”

“Seven minutes are up, sir.” Alfred’s voice sounded off in Bruce’s ear. Perfect timing. He turned to walk away, saying a blunt, “Excuse me,” and flashing Clark a bitter smile. He felt the younger man’s eyes burn into the back of his head as he walked down the stairs.

Finding the room where he left his device in earlier, Bruce casually entered and went to go retrieve his tech only to find it missing. A wave a panic surged through him as he looked around him in an attempt to find it. The feeling of being watched made him look over to the glass door he entered through, where he saw the woman in the maroon dress he had seen many times throughout the evening. She was slender, graceful, confident, and was staring him down in order to get his attention. Bruce exhaled sharply as she started to walk away. She most certainly got his attention, in more ways than one.

Bruce made it outside just in time to see her slip into a car and drive away, all without making a commotion. Combing a hand fretfully through his hair, the realization hit that all he had came here for was gone. He had to get that information, which meant he had to find her. Luckily, there was no way Bruce could forget a face like that.

\--

Finding his mystery woman wasn’t easy, but find her he did. Finally catching up with her once he was inside the night's event, Bruce found himself captivated by her. She held herself elegantly and regally as she walked beside the tour guide leading her around to the different exhibits lining the hall.

Bruce finally had his chance to talk to her after her guide left. Not once did her confidence falter as he interrogated her about his missing tech. While she had her own reasons for taking it, he still didn’t know where it was or how he could get it back even after all his questioning. She eventually tried to walk away from him but Bruce gently grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him.

Leaning in, his deep voice became quiet as he spoke, “You know with that dress, nine of ten men would probably let you get away with anything.”

She didn’t turn back, didn’t lean away, didn’t move a muscle. She simply answered, “But you’re the tenth?”

“I’m guessing I’m the first to see through that babe in the woods act,” he still spoke quietly to her, neither of them moving, “But you don’t know me, while I’ve known many women like you.”

To this, she turned around and looked him straight in the eyes with a dangerous smirk across her face. “I don’t think you’ve ever known a woman like me,” her hands reached up and straightened is already straight bow tie, “And I’m guessing I’m the first to see through _your_ act.”

Bruce fell silent, caught off guard by her answer. His eyes flashed down to her hands as she brushed off his bow tie, his heart beating faster at her touch.

Smiling up at him, she leaned in and spoke to him in almost a whisper, “You’ll find it all in the glove compartment of your car,” she then smoothly backed away from him and turned to leave, “Mr. Wayne.”

Stunned, Bruce watched the glimmer of her dress until she was lost in the crowd. He felt as if the world was spinning around him, but finally brought himself out of the daze he was in. Straightening his shoulders and adjusting his bow tie, he cleared his throat and made his way to the exit.

\--

Unlocking the front door and walking in, Bruce dug around in the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out the device. It was exactly where his mystery girl said it would be, in the glove compartment of his car. He gazed down at it and examined it a bit just to see if she had messed around with it while he shut the door behind him.

“Dad!” Maggie’s voice echoed in from the living room.

Looking up from his tech, a smile grew across Bruce’s face as Maggie ran in and crashed into him, wrapping her arms as far around his waist as she could manage.

Bruce ruffled her hair and asked her, “What are you doing up, silly girl? It’s almost ten o’clock!”

“Alfred said I could stay up and wait for you tonight since I don’t have school tomorrow!” She gave him a last final squeeze before letting go of his waist. Gazing up at him, she asked, “What are you so happy about, dad?”

“Me?” He snuck the tech back into his jacket. “Why are you asking me that?”

“You were smiling when I came into the room, you don’t usually do that.”

Bruce looked down at her, a questioning look on his face. “Ah, well, it was just a good day, sweety,” he pinched her nose, “Now, go get ready for bed, I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

He watched his little daughter run away and up to her room, and as soon as she was gone Bruce found himself looking at the piece of tech again. The information trapped inside the little device in his hands could have a huge impact on the world. It could _save_ the world. And it also had something locked away about the beautiful eyes and dangerous smile who outwitted him.

Yeah, it was a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will take us to the end of Batman v Superman, and then as we continue forward it will all be new content!


	3. Let In The Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce hits the peak of his internal dissonance.  
> Bruce and Clark fight it out.  
> Lots of other stuff happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for all of the emotions everyone, this one is gonna be rough. I am very happy with how this chapter turned out, I think I'm really starting to hit my stride now.  
> This chapter is considerably longer than the other two, which is why it took me so long to update.  
> A little less of Maggie in this chapter, but remember this is Bruce's story too!  
> A semi-important note: I did rewrite the entire fight scene between Bruce and Clark because... well I personally wasn't a fan of how it played out in the movie and I wanted it to fit the story line I'm going with.  
> This will take us to the end of Batman v Superman.  
> Enjoy!

Smoke was pouring out of every crack of Bruce’s slick, high-tech, and now very broken vehicle as it screeched to a stop in the garage. With the roof now missing, it was easy for Bruce to throw himself over the edge of the car, and so in one fell swoop he jumped out and ripped off his ash-coated mask, throwing it off to the side without looking to see where it landed. Every muscle in his body was tight and tense to the point where he wasn’t sure if he could relax them at all. 

After successfully decrypting a percentage of the secrets he stole from Lex Luthor, Bruce had come up with a brilliant plan to steal the other-worldly mineral being transported in order to take down the last Kryptonian (with Alfred resisting his ideas the entire way). His plan had worked perfectly, or at least well enough, up until the last moment, and unless his Plan B was still in play he wasn’t going to keep his calm exterior for much longer.

Marching up the walkway and over to his desk, the now unmasked vigilante hit a button on a keyboard which made a digital map of the city appear on screen, quickly adjusting its focus from one place to another as it searched for what it was looking for. Bruce let out a sharp exhale and leaned forward slightly after slicking his hair back out of his face, his weight now being supported by both of his hands. Letting his head droop and eyes close for a moment, he felt the weight of his self-appointed responsibility dragging him down. He needed that mineral. A split second image of the Superman flashed in his mind as he dozed off slightly, the alien’s red cape flowing in slow motion and his face cold and calculating just before the car ricocheted off of his body…

Beeping from the monitor brought Bruce out of his daze. Whipping his head up, he saw that the computer had found what it was looking for: the beacon that he had attached to the truck before the transfer even began. He let himself relax slightly. All was not lost. While taking note of where the kryptonite had ended up and doing all that needed to be done on his computer, a realization came to him that there was nothing else that could be done tonight. The fight was over for now. And it was time to try and rest.

After taking off his suit, finding his mask under the front end of his broken car, and putting it all away where it needed to be, Bruce felt his limbs grow heavier and heavier with each stair he made it up. At first he felt relieved to be out of his suit and only in the tight black underclothes that he wore, as he needed to cool off. But now he only felt cold, almost chilled to the bone. It was the kind of chill that rooted itself in seemingly every fiber of your body. The kind of chill that kept you up at night. Bruce was no stranger to it.

Once he finally made it up the stairs, it seemed like an eternity had passed since he skidded into the basement. He found himself in front of Maggie’s door and opened it as quietly as he could to peer in. The dim light from her blue night light emitted a soft glow around the room and lit up the contours of the sleeping girl’s face. She was sound asleep as Bruce had hoped, considering it was almost five in the morning. The sight of her, so peaceful and blissfully unaware, warmed his heart. The deathly chill eased back a bit. He went in to lightly stroke her hair and softly kiss her forehead, and he exited with a soft smile on his tired, hardened face. Maggie was the hope to his anger, the innocence to his ruthlessness.

The fight _was_ over for now, and now it was time to rest.

\--

_**“The hearing is set to be underway any minute now, and of course the big unknown of the day is whether Superman will in fact show up. The incident in the desert has left much of the public wondering ‘what is the truth?’, and we all hope the man himself will come to give us answers. Here we have Wallace Keefe, a former employee of Bruce Wayne and a special guest at tonight’s event, who has been invited to share his encounter with the Kryptonian destruction that occurred two years ago. Mr. Keefe…”** _

 

Bruce’s heart pounded as he watched the events unfold onscreen. Every move that Superman made just fueled the flame of hatred he had for him. For two years he watched the so called hero make mistake after mistake with no one batting an eye, and finally the world sought to hold him accountable for his actions. Bruce wouldn’t miss this for world.

There was something unsettling about the whole situation, however. The man, Wallace Keefe, kept rambling and yelling about how the destruction of Bruce’s building last year “left him with nothing”. He remembered the man well, of course, as it was Bruce himself who lifted the rubble off of him. He wouldn’t have let an employee of his live off of nothing after such a tragic event… Something wasn’t adding up.

“Can you get Greg up here, please?” Bruce spoke to someone behind him without turning away from the screen, “Now.” The other individual got up and left after a quick, “Yes, sir.”

A few minutes later, a man entered the room with a stack of papers. Bruce motioned over to him, finally taking his eyes off of the television.

Taking the stack of papers, or more specifically checks, from the man, Bruce noticed that the checks were in pristine shape, almost untouched, except for blood-red handwriting scratched across the front. Confusion set in and his breath caught in his throat. What in the world was going on?

The checks were all un-cashed, not a single one of them was used since the first one Bruce sent out almost two years ago. The messages written over them ranged from “BRUCE WAYNE: OPEN YOUR EYES” to “BRUCE WAYNE = BLIND” and included all sorts of eerie threats. He slammed the stack of papers still in his hand onto the table, his frustration and confusion rising. “Why hadn’t I seen these before now,” he motioned one hand over to the messy stack on the table and turned to face the man who brought them in, his voice rough and low like he was trying to contain himself.

“I-I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know,” was all Bruce got as a response.

Suddenly, the TV erupted with the sounds of cheering and screaming from the crowd being filmed. Turning around to face the screen again, Bruce saw Superman lightly land at the bottom of the stairs leading into the building, not showing his face like the coward he was. They filmed him walking inside and then switched their coverage to the actual start of the hearing.

And then it happened.

An explosion cut off the camera filming the hearing itself after only a few minutes. The screen suddenly went black and the audio cut out with a loud pop. Bruce frantically searched the screen for any sign of what was happening, and after a few seconds it cut to the view from outside where the crowd had gathered. Heavy, black smoke poured out of the windows and people were screaming and ducking in fear, terrified at what had just happened. The camera shook, the individual controlling it caught off guard just as everyone else there.

Pure rage boiled up to the surface as Bruce watched the tragedy unfold. He had picked up a few of the checks moments before, which he now crushed and clenched in his hand. He didn’t say a word as he stared, tense, at the TV, his eyes slowly going out of focus.

“Sir, this just came in this morning,” the same man spoke shakily behind him, holding out a last sheet of paper.

Bruce turned around without speaking and slowly grabbed the paper, his hands starting to shake from the anger pulsing through him. He instantly noticed that this sheet wasn’t a check, it was a newspaper article folded up around the edges. After carefully opening it his body froze, his boiling blood stopped dead in its tracks, and it felt like his heart stopped beating. His deathly chill had taken over in the blink of an eye.

The article cut out and given to him pictured the remains of his destroyed building from the Kryptonian attack two years ago, and the headline read “WAYNE TOWER DEVASTATED”. But that alone is not what scared him. Written across the picture, in the same dark red writing from the checks, were the words “YOU LET HER FAMILY DIE”.

Now his hands were shaking from fear. Guilt ripped through him, and the paper fell from his hands, landing face up on the floor. The words burned in Bruce’s mind even though he wasn’t looking at the message anymore. He wasn’t sure what to do. He just knew that he had to do everything he could to stop Superman from taking more lives. The suffering ends here.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he found himself calling Alfred, his anxiety rising as he waited for his friend to answer.

“Master Wayne, is everyth-” Alfred answered finally but Bruce cut him off.

“Alfred, thank god, where are you? Are you with Maggie, is she alright?” Bruce’s voice was shaky and frantic.

“All is well, sir. Maggie is outside playing and I am watching her. She got home from school about 30 minutes ago.”

“Alright, good. Why don’t you take her out to get ice cream and.. I don’t know, take her to the park,” Bruce had calmed down a bit once he knew Maggie was alright, but he was still frantic, “There is something I need to take care of and having her out of the house will make things much easier.”

Alfred paused for a moment before he answered, “Of course,” another pause before he continued speaking, his voice softer than usual, “But Bruce, be care-”

Bruce ended the call before Alfred could finish.

This was Bruce’s call to action. The line was crossed, and now it was time for the ones who crossed it to face their consequences.

\--

That same night, Bruce focused his rage and fear into breaking into Lex Luthor’s warehouse. With his mission over and complete, he sped home in his (now fixed) high-tech car and skidded to a stop in the garage, veering off at an angle as it pulled over. The door opened violently before he stepped out, panting and still in his full Bat attire. A dim green light reflected off of Bruce while the door was open, revealing that he did indeed acquire the kryptonite. He stood there next to the car for a few moments, trying to get ahold of himself.

“It’s nice to see you in one piece,” Alfred’s voice echoed down from the work area above him. Bruce heard him, but didn’t answer. He was still standing next to his car, leaning against it with one hand, when Alfred came down the stairs.

Bruce was as still as stone, unmoving, unresponsive, unwavering. Alfred looked at him over the short and sleek car standing between them, his face filled with sadness and concern. “Bruce,” his voice was quiet, “What were you thinking?”

“It needed to be done,” Bruce answered, tired but determined, “And now the real work begins.” He then finally moved, swinging around the back of the car to walk to the other side. He grabbed a handle and began to pull it open when Alfred grabbed his shoulder.

“This isn’t you, Bruce,” as Alfred said this, Bruce turned his head slightly to look at him through his mask, “You hide behind that mask all too often lately.”

To this, Bruce ripped the mask off and turned to face him, his face tired and sweaty, his hair messy and partially blocking his eyes. “This isn’t me, Alfred?” Bruce was shouting now, pointing at his mask which he held up near Alfred’s face. “This IS me, and I am it. Everything I’ve ever done that’s mattered in the slightest was done when I was _hiding_ behind this mask.”

Alfred’s face hardened as he looked the younger man straight in the eyes. “Try telling that to your daughter, Master Wayne. I ought to remind you that she knows nothing about your violent crusades. You want to tell me that everything you’ve done for her doesn’t matter?”

Surprise and guilt flooded Bruce’s face for a moment before it disappeared. He turned around and faced the car again so he didn’t have to look Alfred in the face. “Her future is what I’m fighting for, Alfred. That’s why I have to win.”

Alfred’s eyes darted to the mask still in Bruce’s hand. “Very well, sir. Goodnight.” He then turned and walked up the stairs and out of the garage. It left the entire area deathly quiet.

Bruce’s mind was racing. Alfred’s words brought up deep-seeded feelings of doubt that Bruce had desperately tried to bury, but now everything he stood for seemed out of place, dark. His face fell forward just enough to where his forehead touched the car in front of him. His breathing became fast and rough, his heart was pounding, his hands formed fists as he tried to pushed down the fear and anxiety.

With a loud, heart breaking scream, Bruce punched the door of his car which left a loud metallic ring in the air. Tears then started to fall as Bruce fell apart and suddenly fell to his knees.

So many lives were lost that day almost two years ago. Sometimes it felt as if Bruce could feel the pain and loss of every single one of them. And now, in order to get the peace he so deeply craved, more lives were being lost by his own doing. He was no saint, he never once thought he was. But maybe this time he really did lose his way.

Bruce sat there for a while, silent tears trailing down his face and washing away some of the soot and dirt. A moment of clarity did come, however, and Bruce resolved to not dwell on the past. All that mattered was the future. The world’s future. Maggie’s future. If his own sanity and humanity were the cost to get there, he would pay it. Hell, for Maggie he would pay with his life.

And so Bruce got up. Every inch of his body burned with exhaustion, every corner of his mind was worn thin, but he still got up. There was work to be done.

\--

Maggie woke up with a jolt and a sharp gasp. Pale moonlight squeezed in through the cracks in the blinds over her windows, lighting up only parts of her face as she sat up, panting. She didn’t have nightmares often, but when she did she couldn’t ever remember what happened in them. She just always woke up feeling alone, and that something was out there to get her.

She was wide awake now, and that meant it was going to take her a long time to get back to sleep, so she decided to go get her dad. He was the best at calming her down and making her feel safe enough to fall back asleep.

After arriving at his door, she slowly opened it as to not startle him. The first couple times she came into his room at night she just burst in and scared him awake. Now she doesn’t do that anymore. To Maggie’s surprise, Bruce wasn’t sleeping. The lights were off, but unlike Maggie’s room, the entire space was lit up by the moon since he didn’t have the blinds closed. She peered in and saw him sitting on the far edge of his bed, pointed towards the windows, with his head drooped down and a hand over the back of his neck.

Without a shirt on, Bruce’s scars were able to be seen. The moonlight curved around the side of his body just enough to show one on his back near his spine, above his right shoulder blade: a bullet hole. Maggie stopped dead in her tracks. Her friend Alex at school had a few scars from surgery she’s had, but they looked nothing like that. She found herself anxious to know if her dad was alright, and where he got that scar from. It didn’t look like surgery scars.

“Dad?”

At the sound of her little voice, Bruce turned to look back at her over his right shoulder. “Mags, you’re awake.” He sounded just as tired, if not more, than she did. “You can come in, sweety, and turn the light on.”

Maggie came in, switched on the light, and closed the door behind her as Bruce stood up and walked over to where a t-shirt lay on the ground. In the light you could now clearly see some of Bruce’s scars on his chest: a tangled mess of them lay over his left clavicle. And the gash on his left arm healed but would leave a scar in its place soon enough. He quickly swung the shirt over his head, but Maggie still saw the damage. She was worried about him.

After sitting on the end of his bed, Bruce looked over at her and smiled weakly, motioning for her to come over and sit next to him. “What’s wrong, can’t sleep?”

She shook her head. “Had another nightmare.”

“Do you want to sleep in here tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

Bruce pulled out an extra pillow from under his bed, clearly there for the sole purpose of pulling it out when Maggie needed some extra company. He then moved his pillow off to the right side of the bed and plopped hers on the left side. 

“There ya go, Mags,” he lightly hit the pillow a few times, “Your favorite pillow.”

 

Maggie climbed up onto her side of the bed and sat, pulling the blankets up over her legs. Before settling in completely, she paused and looked over at Bruce who grabbed a glass of water from next to his bed to take a drink. She was pensive and concerned. “Are you okay, dad?”

Setting the glass back down, he went and sat next to her on the bed. A confused smile appeared on his face when he looked over at her. “Of course I’m okay.”

“But you weren’t asleep when I came in earlier…” she trailed off, not sure of why things seemed so strange lately, but she couldn’t deny that something was off, “Did you have a nightmare too?”

Bruce looked down at his hands, which lay intertwined in his lap. “Sometimes I do have nightmares, but I didn’t tonight. Tonight I just… couldn’t sleep,” he then looked over at her again and pinched her nose, “But I’m alright, honey, I promise. Now let’s get some sleep, okay?”

Maggie smiled up at him, satisfied by his answer for the moment. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired.”

Bruce then got up and turned the light off again, and kissed Maggie’s forehead as he walked back over to the right side of the bed. They exchanged good night’s and then the room was peacefully quiet.

An hour passed and still Bruce found himself unable to sleep. Maggie had thankfully found a way to get her body to quiet down again, but Bruce wasn’t so lucky. He looked over at her. She was facing away from him, curled up in grey blankets that were much too big for her. 

The small bundle of warmth next to him was his entire world. It was the moments like this that really brought Bruce back from the dark places he found himself in. Just a few hours earlier, he had been breaking into a highly secure building, shooting down anyone in his way with blind rage, in order to retrieve a toxic weapon. A few hours ago, Bruce Wayne was Batman. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Alfred was right, he hid behind that mask all too often lately.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Bruce flipped onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, trying to relax, trying to sleep. This moment was quiet and pure. He needed to let go. And at last he did, letting his exhaustion wash over him. His work was done for now.

\--

_Mid November, 1981  
Two weeks after the funeral of Martha and Thomas Wayne_

The air was crisp, chill. Leaves scattered in the wind when it picked up, and yet the water was almost completely still. Here, next to the lake, it appeared that autumn had not been kind. The leaves and grass had turned a dull brown, and everything was brittle. The sky was pale and grey and lifeless. But it was quiet, and maybe that was all that mattered.

A much younger Bruce sat by the edge of the water, which at the time was part of his parents’ extensive property. His knees were up, a resting place for his head, and his arms wrapped tightly around them, trying to keep out the chill. But the chill wasn’t from the weather. He hadn’t felt warm in weeks, no matter where he was or what he was doing. Every once in awhile he would reach up to move the hair out of his eyes. 

Time held no meaning anymore, and as a consequence Bruce had no idea how long he was sitting out there, alone. But Alfred appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and sat down next to him, not saying a word, not disturbing him in any way. Bruce was annoyed with another presence at first but then welcomed it. Sometimes a grieving heart doesn’t know what it needs.

After an uncountable amount of moments, Alfred spoke up, “It’s getting late Bruce, why don’t we go inside?”

Bruce didn’t answer, didn’t move, didn’t seem to have even heard him. He sat in the same position as before, eyes peering out over the water.

Knowing he would get nothing more out of him, Alfred became silent again. Another session of uncountable moments passed while they sat, and the sky began to darken. The air began to thin and freeze. The wind almost stopped all together.

“It’s not fair,” Bruce’s voice cracked and sounded weak, “It’s just not fair.”

Alfred looked over at the small boy next to him. Many things would change over the next 30 years: Alfred’s hair would fade to grey from the pitch black it was now, he would grow older, he would become harsher in order to protect Bruce from the world, but one thing that would never change is the softness he had when looking at his boy. He wanted so much to take away Bruce’s pain, and that want would stay strong throughout the decades. But it was the harsh truth that he didn’t know how, and that it really wasn’t possible.

“Why did they leave me, Alfred?” Silent tears slid down Bruce’s face as he spoke.

“They loved you, Bruce,” said Alfred, “They didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t their choice.”

Finally breaking from his position, Bruce turned and looked up at the man next to him, trying to bury the fear and anguish trying to force itself out from every edge. Everywhere he went people always said, _‘It’s Bruce, he’s a strong kid, he’ll be okay’_. But he was everything but okay; he just couldn’t let the world see that. It was too much for a 10 year old boy to handle on his own.

Before he could say another word, Bruce broke into heaving sobs, leaving him gasping for breath. Alfred’s heart shattered for what seemed like the hundredth time at the sight of him so lost and scared, and he protectively wrapped an arm around him to draw him close. Bruce clung to him, burying his face into his jacket as he sobbed. He managed to choke out an “I miss them” between the gasps.

A single tear trailed down Alfred’s cheek as he looked up at the still darkening sky.

“I miss them, too.”

\--

The day was finally here.

The last few weeks were filled with blood, sweat, and sleepless nights. There wasn’t a day that went by where Bruce wasn’t caught off guard by something, whether it be the strange properties of Kryptonite or decrypting more of Lex Luthor secrets.

Turns out that Superman wasn’t the only one Luthor had been watching. Bruce found an entire file on individuals with extraordinary abilities, but he was never prepared to see a familiar face in the mix. The mystery woman from all those weeks ago finally had a name: Diana Prince. But what caught his attention the most was a picture from 1918, with her smack in the center. He found himself unable to look away, once again being drawn in with extreme curiosity. Something about her… 

He caught himself smiling at the screen. She was captivating and strong, mysterious and regal. _Who was she?_ Bruce had to know. And so he found a way to send her the information he found, remembering how she was looking for it herself and deserved to see it. He knew full well that he might not ever see or hear from her again, and that she would most likely take the file and run, but it was hers to run with.

The file was sent, and so Bruce leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath. The sun was setting; it was almost time to leave. Everything was ready: the kryptonite, his armor… He started going over the list in his head for the hundredth time but stopped himself, shaking his head. He was going to drive himself crazy. The only thing he had left to do was brace himself for the fight of his life and trust the universe to do the rest. Not as easy as it sounds.

Getting up and walking past the workbench, Bruce paused a moment to look down at his new and improved mask. He picked it up, holding it directly in front of his face. This is who he was now: Bruce Wayne, the ‘Batman’, a vigilante. But also a father, a friend… just a man. He was years older than his parents ever were, and while he was grateful, he often wondered if anything he did really mattered. He’s survived all this time but he never asked himself if surviving was enough. All the battles won, all the ones lost, and all the people taken from him along the way… Maybe it was all leading up to this moment. Maybe today was it. 

Bruce felt calm in a way he hadn’t felt in his entire life. The bone-deep chill melted away and the aching tension left with it. He took a long, deep breath as he set the heavy mask back down. No turning back now.

Heading up the stairs into the normal part of the house, he walked in to find it peacefully quiet with the muffled murmur of the TV echoing in from the living room. Most likely Maggie watching her cartoons again.

As he suspected, Maggie was sprawled out on the couch, her messy brown hair pouring over the edge and the side of her face smushed against the cushion as she stared at the screen. Bruce happened to walk in just as Captain America yelled, “Avengers, assemble!” and all the action started. Bad timing, but he couldn’t wait.

“Sorry to interrupt, Mags, but I need to talk to you for a second,” he walked over and sat down next to her on the couch, “I promise you can finish later.”

Maggie sat up and reached for the remote to turn it off, then looked over at him. “What’s up, dad?”

Bruce paused. While only moments before he had been ready to walk straight into the jaws of death itself, now he found himself terrified and guilty. His daughter was too young to understand everything that accumulated and twisted together to make this day happen, no matter how much he wished she wasn’t. This was the only way he could keep her safe.

After what seemed like an eternity to him, but in reality was only a few seconds, Bruce looked over at Maggie and smiled. “I just wanted to tell you that I love you,” he said, “You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” she happily answered him, “And I love you too!”

Reaching out, Bruce scooped her up into his arms and then sat her down in his lap. “Now, remember, tonight’s the night I have to go into work,” as he spoke he attempted to calm her wild hair and start to braid it, “And I’m not sure when I’ll be home. But Alfred will be here, you know the drill.”

Maggie nodded her head, undoing the progress Bruce had made on the braid. “Can I watch my show now?”

Bruce let his hands drop, giving up on her hair. “Yeah, sweety, you can keep watching your show now.”

Excitedly jumping out of his lap, Maggie grabbed the remote and plopped back into her own seat on the couch.

Bruce got up and started walking out of the room just as the loud noises of the show started up again. With one last look at her, he made his way to the kitchen where Alfred was waiting for him.

“Alright, everything is set,” Bruce spoke up as he walked over to table where Alfred reading and drinking a glass of wine, “I need to go.” He then pulled out an envelope from the back pocket of his pants and placed it on the table in front of Alfred. ‘Maggie’ was written across the front of it. “If I don’t make it back…” His voice was quiet as he trailed off.

Suddenly, Alfred was standing up in front of him, forcing the chair back away from the table with a loud screech. “You don’t have to do this, Bruce.” Alfred was almost shouting. He stared Bruce straight in the eyes and picked up the envelope. “It doesn’t have to end with _this_ if you just don’t go, don’t fight.” He waved the envelope in Bruce’s face.

Bruce’s gaze was strong and solid. “I have to do this, Alfred. I have the chance to strike and I have to take it, because if I don’t now it’ll be too late.” He swiftly turned around and made to leave the room but Alfred grabbed his wrist before he got very far.  
“I _cannot_ and _will_ not watch you throw everything away!” Now Alfred was shouting. “You’ve made an enemy out of someone who’s done nothing but protect us. It’s a suicide mission, Bruce. You can still make the choice to stay. I cannot watch Maggie go through the same pain you went through,” he paused, letting go of Bruce’s wrist, “I can’t go through that again.”

Bruce turned around, not saying a word.

“But most of all, I cannot lose you,” Alfred became quiet, his voice cracking and tears pooling in his eyes.

Bruce’s head was spinning. The two people he cared about most in this world were the only ones who could make him momentarily stumble on the most important day in his life. He wasn’t worth their tears… Why were they making it so hard for him to leave?

“Alfred…” his voice was almost at a whisper as he stared at the ground in front of him, but whatever he was going to say never came out. Bruce simply cleared his throat, stood a little taller, and said, “I have to go.” 

And so he did, leaving Alfred alone in the kitchen, still holding the envelope. He half sat, half fell back into his chair at the table and set the envelope down. His left hand went up to cover his mouth, his eyes now closed as he silently prayed that that wasn’t the last conversation he’d ever have with Bruce. 

Eventually Alfred made his way down to the garage, hoping to catch Bruce before he left, but when he got down the stairs he saw that the plane was gone. There was nothing he could do now except hope and wait.

\--

_“Next time they shine your light in the sky, don’t go to it…”_

Everything was set up: the traps were laid, weapons at the ready… The last piece of the puzzle was to get Superman where he wanted him. With a flip of a switch, a blaring light came to life and shot into the pitch black sky. The silhouette of a bat sat in the center of the light, its wings spread wide over the cloud cover. Bruce was peering up through the downpour, his mask now on and fully functional, the eyes being lit up with bright white light. After a few moments, he turned around to exit the roof of the building. His place was on the ground.

The rain continued to come down, relentlessly soaking the earth and everything around it. Lightning streaked across the sky, and the thunder that followed slowly became louder and louder as time went on. Bruce patiently waited all the same.

Another bright burst of lightning shot across the sky, revealing the dark silhouette of a floating figure about 20 feet off the ground. Superman was here. He slowly descended and lightly set both feet on the ground.

Bruce straightened up, taking a slow breath in while a dangerous smirk crossed his face. “Well,” his head cocked off to the side, “here I am.” The voice-changer in his helmet deepened everything he said, making his voice unrecognizable.

Walking forward, Superman finally spoke, “Bruce, I need your help.”

_What?_ Confusion stopped Bruce dead in his tracks. He knew who he was and _needed his help?_ Lies. Choosing to ignore the breach in anonymity and the alien’s comment altogether, he started to step backwards as Superman moved towards him.

And _step._ Superman suddenly set off an array of automatic guns, pelting him non-stop as he flung his arms up to block his face. 

Seeing that his distraction worked, Bruce whipped out the grenade launcher he had strapped to his back and worked to get it locked and loaded. Immediately after getting the grenade in its place, the guns mounted in front of him all exploded, sending him flying back and landing with a hard thud. The grenade launcher flew from his hands, landing a few feet away.

Looking up from where he landed on the ground, Bruce watched Superman land as he tried to sit up. The Kryptonian’s eyes were glowing a bright red, which slowly faded away to reveal he was staring directly at Bruce. He didn’t have a scratch on him even though he had been shot at dozens of times, but he was panting; whether from anger, pain, or frustration, Bruce didn’t know.

Bruce was finally up and retrieved the gun he dropped, the weight of his armor slowing him down, and then bam! His head slammed back against a wall, dizzying him for a second before he realized Superman had shot them both back over 50 feet to the abandoned building behind them. He held Bruce back against the stone easily with one hand.

“Listen to me!” He screamed in Bruce’s face over another burst of thunder, water pouring down his face, “If you cooperate with me, things won’t have to get ugly.”

Bruce slowly started to raised the grenade launcher he managed to keep a hold on, aiming to point it directly in the other man’s face. His face… It looked oddly familiar. But no time to think about that now.

A split second later, the two of them burst through the wall behind them and into the building as Superman forced them both back once again. Concrete blocks cracked apart around Bruce’s armor, which luckily deflected them away without causing any damage. Then he felt his feet leave the ground as the alien lifted him up and then angrily forced him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him and accidentally causing him to shoot the grenade. It flew out of the gun and burst against the wall in a brilliant cloud of green. _Shit._ One round wasted.

Crouched down over Bruce, and holding him down into the divot created by the impact of throwing him to the floor, Superman continued to scream at him, “This is just giving Luthor what he wants! If I wanted you dead, you would be already!”

Bruce still hadn’t said a word at this point, but he lay there on the ground trying to catch his breath and contemplating what the other man was saying. He slowly let down the grenade launcher and relaxed slightly. Lex Luthor was certainly capable of creating chaos where he needed it…

Superman lifted his hand off of Bruce’s chest and stood up. “Will you help me?”

Grunting, Bruce stood up and faced the other man. After a few seconds he replied, “Help you?” Bruce had come this far, he couldn’t give up now, “Not likely.” He quickly grabbed something strapped to his chest, what looked like another grenade, and threw it onto the ground in between them. A cloud of dark smoke flew up and surrounded Superman, blocking his view.

Both men swiftly moved to their places out of the smoke. Bruce reloaded the grenade launcher as he moved, and once he saw Superman emerge from the cloud he aimed and pulled the trigger.

Despite catching the grenade before it hit him, it still burst open and shot green particles in every direction, enveloping him. Bruce watched as Superman fell to his knees, coughing, gagging, unable to control himself as he struggled to breathe.

The green started to dissipate, leaving the Kryptonian gasping on all fours, his forehead almost touching the ground. Time to see if the kryptonite really works. 

Bruce walked over to Superman, his heavy suit making a loud and echoing thud with each step. Once he reached the other man he threw his arm back and sent it down with as much force as he could muster, sending Superman’s face flying into floor with a sharp crack. He was now flat against the ground, lifeless, seemingly unconscious, so Bruce bent down and grabbed the collar of his suit with both hands to start dragging him farther into the building.

Bruce didn’t get very far. For the third time that night, he found himself being slammed into a far away wall, this time face first. His mask scraped violently against the concrete, causing the metal over his left eye to rip off. Sparks from the snapped wires in his mask flew in his face, causing him to grit his teeth and groan in pain. After landing about 30 feet away from where he originally started, he managed to get up on his hands and knees, once again out of breath.

Superman looked up, one knee up and one to the ground as he shakily attempted to stand back up. Throwing Bruce off of him clearly took all of his strength.

Bruce forced himself up and started running into the main part of the building. Things were on the brink of falling apart; he had to get to the weapon he hid before it was too late. Making it through an opening and into the main room, Bruce spotted the kryptonite spear he had stuck into the floor and headed towards it. As he reached for it, a loud scream sounded from behind him.

Grabbing hold of the spear, he yanked it out of the floor and turned around just in time to see Superman flying towards him, keeping low to the ground. As the two men collided, Bruce took hold of the front of Superman’s suit, swung him around and then slammed him into the floor. The alien cried out in pain.

“Bruce,” he managed to choke out a few words, “Bruce, wait.”

“Shut up!” Bruce screamed back, his normal voice ringing into the room now that his mask wasn’t working, “You don’t get to to talk!” He lifted the spear and pointed it down at Superman’s chest. “For years, you’ve flown around the planet with no supervision. Lives have been lost. Families have been ripped apart. And never once have you taken responsibility for it!” Every ounce of rage within Bruce burst to the surface as he held the weapon of death threateningly over the man below him. It took every bit of willpower he had to not drive the kryptonite spear straight into the alien’s heart right then. Redemption was at his fingertips. All the pain and anguish from the past two years… All the devastation Maggie and countless others felt after losing their loved ones… Someone was finally going to pay for it.

The bright green glow of the kryptonite shone into Superman’s eyes, making him squint and attempt to move his face away from the light. He gritted his teeth, and Bruce felt him weaken under his grasp. The mineral had a powerful effect.

“You have nothing to say?” Bruce growled down at him.

Superman’s arms lifted up and he grabbed the strong arm holding him down, panting. He was weakening by the second. “They have… Martha..” His voice was quiet and hoarse, “I’ve been… trying to tell you…”

_Martha?_

_What is he talking about? How did he know his mother’s name?_

“SHUT UP!” Bruce pressed down harder on the man’s chest and thrust the spear closer to his heart, “Martha is dead, you have _no_ right to speak her name!”

The kryptonite left Superman gritting his teeth even harder, groaning, unable to speak. His grip on Bruce’s arm weakened and eventually his arms dropped to the ground. 

Bruce’s rage had completely taken over now. He lifted the spear higher, getting ready to strike.

“Please…” Superman’s voice was weak as he begged for his life.

“Wait! Stop!”

A woman’s voice echoed in from behind them. The sound of heels against the concrete floated in and suddenly someone flung themselves onto the ground next to the man under Bruce’s grip. She tried her best get herself in between Superman and the spear. “Stop, please. Don’t do this.”

Bruce paused and turned his attention over to her. She looked at him, terrified and pleading. _Who the hell is this?_

“They have… Martha…” Superman choked out the words, trying to turn towards the woman.

“I said STOP!” Bruce’s rage quickly returned, “Why do you keep saying her name?”

“It’s his mother’s name!” The woman blurted out the answer.

_What?_

Everything around him started to blur, his breathing became short and heavy. The entire time, his foe had just been trying to save his mother…

_Bruce’s mind flashed back to 1981. He watched as his father fell to the ground, the gun now pointed directly at his mother. Young Bruce moved forward to try and jump between the bullet and his mother but was too slow. She fell, leaving Bruce screaming as the shooter ran away. The gunshot rang out, loud and deafening..._

He would have done anything to save her, but he never had the chance. This man did have the chance… Bruce just wasn't listening.

Finally his mind wandered back to the present, seeing the two terrified individuals beneath him. He felt as if he was going to collapse at any second.

The spear fell to the floor as Bruce looked down at his shaking hands. “Oh god…” His voice was at a whisper as he backed away from Superman and the woman. _This was all a mistake…_

He looked up, trying to steady his breathing over the waves of guilt and sorrow. The woman was cradling Superman’s face and pressed their foreheads together. She was speaking but he couldn’t make out the words. He saw the spear still sitting a few feet away from the two of them, and so he walked over, picked it up, and threw it far away with a yell.

Superman immediately began to regain his strength. He gasped for air and started to sit up.

“Clark…” The woman’s voice was full of relief, and she kissed his cheek.

_Clark? Clark Kent?_

Now he was able to stand up. Bruce watched him slowly get to his feet, preparing to be sent through the wall again. He deserved it.

But Superman didn’t lay a finger on him. He walked over to Bruce, eyeing him down.

“I…” Bruce spoke first, “I’m so sorry.”

“Lex Luthor wanted your head in exchange for her life,” he barely let Bruce finish before he started speaking, “If I don’t show up in time they’re going to kill her. I have to go… I have to try and find her.” The entire time he stared into Bruce’s eyes threateningly, but now he turned to leave. It was easy to see that the exhaustion still hadn’t completely left his body.

“Wait! Clark…” Bruce took his arm to stop him from walking away.

Clark turned around, wary and cautious at the mention of his name.

“This is a royal mess, completely my fault…” Bruce let go of his arm he continued to speak, “Let me help. You need to go to Luthor, I can save your mother.”

To this, Clark scoffed.

“I’m making you a promise,” Bruce’s voice was stronger now, “Martha won’t die tonight.”

Clark’s face softened. After contemplating for a moment, he gave Bruce a curt nod and turned towards the woman. “Lois…” He smiled weakly down at her.

She had a hand to his cheek as he walked away from her, and then he blasted away through the roof. She then turned to glare at Bruce.

Guilt once again overwhelmed him. He opened his mouth to speak but Lois cut him off.

“Don’t speak,” she was harsh, “Just go.”

Bruce’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes darted around, feeling her gaze burn into his skull, but he just awkwardly nodded and left for his plane. There were many things Bruce was going to have to face after this night was over, but right now he had a mother to save.

\--

Whatever this thing was, it was strong, fast, and was about to come crashing down on him. 

Bruce had successfully gotten Martha out of danger, breaking more than just a few bones in the process, and had dropped her off at his house. He didn’t have time to explain much of anything to her, and he wasn’t about to walk in and face Alfred until everything was over, but he knew that she would be safe there with him. He hoped Maggie was asleep already… Things were getting complicated and explaining to her why a terrified stranger was staying in their house would be a bumpy conversation.

Immediately after dropping her off, Bruce headed towards Metropolis. Whatever Lex had planned for Clark didn’t end with his twisted plan of pitting him and Bruce against each other. Something bigger was bound to appear soon enough.

On his flight to the city, a brilliant burst of sickening yellow light lit up the entire sky: a nuclear missile going off just outside the atmosphere. Bruce’s stomach twisted into knots, knowing full well that whatever just happened wasn’t good, and that Clark had most likely been near that blast. A few seconds later, something re-entered the atmosphere and impacted with a huge explosion. Bruce headed towards it.

This thing was ugly. Fighting a human look-alike was as much experience as Bruce had with aliens, and seeing this energized monster stare straight up at him as he flew by chilled him to the bone. An idea suddenly sprung to mind: the thing must be Kryptonian like Clark, meaning that kryptonite should have the same effect on it as it did on Clark. He had one grenade left, and the spear. The only problem was that the spear was back in the abandoned building in Gotham. Flying over the monster again, he did the only thing he could think of to get its attention: shoot at it. It got the job done, and now it was gaining on him as he directed it back to Gotham.

Now that the monster was in close range, it shot out a blast of energy from its eyes and blew out almost the entire left half of Bruce’s plane. He tried as best he could to land safely, but he violently hit the pavement and skidded to a rough stop when he hit a building. He was completely exposed now, as the top of the plane ripped off in the landing. Bruce watched as the Kryptonian menace landed and skidded to a halt in front of him, realizing that this might be it. After everything that’s happened tonight, it was all going to be over. He braced himself and flung his arms to block his face when he saw the monster prepare to fire…

The blast came but it never reached him… _What happened?_ The bright orange light of the blast stopped abruptly at the front of his plane, curving slightly around him to the point where he could feel some of its heat. Bruce peered down as the heat and light died down to see a figure standing at the base of the plane.

The individual reared forward with a yell and slammed the gauntlets on their wrists together. It sent out a blast of energy that sent the monster flying back. Bruce took the opportunity and climbed down from his destroyed plane, grabbing the last kryptonite grenade and the grenade launcher. Once the gun was loaded he peered over to the individual just as they turned around.

It was Diana Prince, his mystery woman, the one who has defied death for the past hundred years. Now it all made sense… He looked at her with awe and amazement, completely forgetting his surroundings as the monster roared in the background, ready to counter attack. But before it could move a muscle it was suddenly flung away, causing a huge explosion as it hit an energy plant. Clark was alive, and he was ready to fight.

After picking up a shield that was on the ground next to her, Diana headed over to Bruce and searched his face. “Are you alright?”

Bruce nodded. “Yes, thank you,” he let out the breath he had been holding in, “You saved my life.”

She smirked. “It was the least I could do. You found my picture after all,” she then unsheathed a sword hanging from her waist, “Besides, I couldn’t let you boys have all the fun.”

Bruce chuckled. She certainly had some spunk.

Eventually Clark made his way over to where the two of them were standing. It was up to the three of them to beat this thing before it cost any lives, and it was lucky for them that this section of town was abandoned. But compared to the two individuals standing next to him, Bruce felt useless. If anything, he was going to get in the way.

The battle began after the monster sent out a blast, even bigger than the last, to which Bruce had to take cover for. Clark and Diana used everything they had to try and take this thing down, but without the spear their efforts seemed to be going to waste.

Bruce tried to stay clear, fearing for his own life and not wanting to get in the path of Diana or Clark’s wrath. He noticed at one point that Clark flew away in the direction of the abandoned building they fought in earlier that night. Hopefully he had thought of the same thing Bruce had and went to retrieve the spear. This entire disaster could still be stopped.

The monster was relentless. Diana’s battle cries sounded over the blasts and explosions as she sliced and stabbed her way around the monster, trying every angle. She was a force of nature, an unstoppable show of strength. At a moment of weakness, Diana whipped out a glowing rope of some sort and lassoed the creature, pinning its arms to its side as it screamed and fought back. Bruce moved into place, knowing it was now or never, and pulled the trigger on his grenade launcher. He silently prayed Clark was on his way back with the spear; this was the last of his kryptonite.

Direct hit. A huge burst of green appeared around the monster’s face which made it gag and start to weaken. Diana still held her rope, screaming as she desperately tried to keep it from moving any farther.

A streak of bright green flashed across the battlefield, and suddenly the creature was roaring in pain. It broke its arms free from Diana’s lasso, causing her to fly back with a loud scream. Bruce jumped out from his hiding place and started sprinting towards the action, noticing Clark in the monster’s grip and pushing the spear into its chest. _He did it!_

The creature then reared its arm back, showing off an impressively large spike at the end of its arm, and drove it straight into Clark’s chest. 

Clark’s screams could be heard over even the creature’s roars. Bruce stumbled as he watched the Kryptonian get impaled, shock and fear coursing throughout his entire body. He continued to watch as Clark fought through the pain and drove the spear right through the back of the creature, causing it to shudder and collapse. The fight was finally over.

Bruce’s breathing was fast and shallow as he tried to take everything in. Clark fell alongside the monster and hadn’t moved since. Bruce found himself running, jumping over and weaving through huge pieces of concrete. 

Diana was crouched next to Clark when Bruce got there, her hand searching for a pulse. But the hole in Clark’s chest was enough to make Bruce doubt that he was still with them. He stood a few feet behind her as she stood up, still looking at her fallen warrior, her hand placed delicately over her mouth.

“Is he..” Bruce couldn’t finish the question.

Diana turned around and locked eyes with him. She didn’t need to say a word, Bruce knew. Clark was dead.

“Clark?” Lois’ frantic and terrified call sounded from beneath them.

Diana finally looked away from Bruce and made her way over to the edge of the large pile of rubble they were on. Bruce watched her jump down to go talk to Lois.

Bruce finally had a clear view of Clark. His face was soft and peaceful, but the wound he received was painful for Bruce to see. He went over and knelt down next to him, then peered over and saw the spear shooting out of the creature’s chest at an angle. His eyes wandered back down to Clark. Bruce had been wrong about him. So wrong. A wave of guilt washed over him when he thought about how he almost killed this man only hours before. How was it that now Bruce was angry and distraught seeing Superman’s lifeless body in front of him?

Clark was everything that Bruce wasn’t, everything that Bruce wanted to be but never thought he could be. He sacrificed himself for the good he saw in the world while Bruce fought hatred and anger with his own blind rage. 

He wasn’t a good man. Bruce always knew that about himself. There was good in him, but he wasn’t good. Clark might not have been born on this world, but he was the most human out of all of them. He was a good man. Bruce knew that now. Men are still good, sometimes you just to look to see it.

Lois’ cries broke him out of the trance he was in. He looked up to see Diana climbing back up.

“We should move him,” Diana spoke softly.

Bruce nodded in response, and together the two of them gently lowered Clark down to where Lois was waiting, trying to hold in her sobs. Once she saw the lifeless body of her love, however, the crying couldn’t be contained any longer. She rushed over to him as they settled him onto the ground, caressing his face and leaning down so she and him were touching foreheads. Tears streamed down her face as her body was wracked with violent sobs and sharp breaths.

Bruce felt his throat tighten up, his heart breaking as he watched Lois grieve. This man had been loved in the purest of ways. He glanced over at Diana who was looking down at Lois and Clark. Her face was soft, grieving the loss in her own quiet and dignified way. She then looked up and around. Bruce focused his attention out and away as well, realizing how quiet it now was.

The world was finally settling back into place. But Bruce knew that after tonight, nothing would be the same again. A new wind was blowing in, and he felt uneasy at what it would bring.

\--

 

Gotham had become a sanctuary over the past few weeks, at least on the outskirts by the water where Bruce lived. Every time he went out into the world, whether it be to detain criminals or steal minerals, coming back home was like a breath of fresh air. Everything was quiet, calm, collected. Everything was light.

Bruce ached to be home after that night. Everything he’d known for the past few years shattered right in front of him. Nothing felt real anymore. But when he arrived back at the house with Diana and Lois, Clark in tow, he suddenly felt hesitant to step inside. 

The sun was starting to rise, the faint glow reflecting off of the lake. It was a new day. But once Bruce set foot inside the house everything was going to come out, everything was going to have to be dealt with. It left him shaking as he paused at the front door, his hand on the door knob.

Lois refused to leave the car; she couldn’t leave Clark. But Diana followed behind Bruce as he went to go inside and shot him a pitying glance when he hesitated at the door. 

“Bruce?”

Diana’s soft voice brought his focus back. Without a second thought, he turned the knob and went in, Diana following closely behind.

Looking around as he walked in, he saw Alfred at the kitchen table, fast asleep. He must have been waiting all night for him to return. With a slight jump, Alfred awoke and turned around to see Bruce and Diana in the doorway. He exhaled, the tension easing down to relief when he saw Bruce.

Bruce started walking towards him, preparing to explain everything. “Alfred-”

Before he could get another word out, Alfred stood up and met Bruce in a tight embrace. Bruce was momentarily stunned, his arms sticking out awkwardly as he looked down at Alfred. After a few seconds he relaxed and wrapped his arms around his friend, burying his face into his shoulder. Bruce was exhausted, in every way that someone could be. He felt as if he might collapse right there in Alfred’s arms, and a few tears escaped.

The two of them then broke apart. Alfred looked up at the man in front of him, smiling, and reached up to lightly touch his face. “It’s good to have you back, sir.”

“It’s good to see you Alfred,” Bruce answered while wiping the tears away. He then remembered Diana, and cleared his throat as he turned back to speak to her. “Ah, Diana…” he motioned for her to join them, “This is Alfred. Alfred, this is Diana Prince.”

Diana smiled and reached out a hand, which Alfred shook. “It’s nice to meet you, Alfred.”

“Where is Martha?” Bruce asked, realizing she wasn’t with them.

“She is in the living room, Master Wayne. Last time I checked she was awake but was attempting to sleep,” Alfred answered.

Bruce nodded and headed towards the living room. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, but he felt the need to tell her himself.

Martha was there, laying down on the couch. Her eyes were closed but she was awake; she hadn’t slept all night. Quietly walking in, Bruce said a tentative, “Mrs. Kent?”

She sat up and looked over to where the voice came from. “Ah, you must be the man who saved me,” she said, smiling warmly, “Bruce, right? It’s nice to meet you officially.”

Bruce and Martha had a formal introduction and a few quick words, and after a few moments Martha stood up and said she could use a glass of water. He nodded and led her into the kitchen.

Upon seeing Alfred and Diana, Martha started looking around the room. “Is Clark back yet?”

The room went silent. Alfred offered her a seat at the table and then went to go get her a glass of water while Bruce sat opposite of her. 

Upstairs, Maggie woke to the sounds of people talking and moving around in the kitchen. Sometimes her dad got home late but this was more noise than usual, and much later. She was genuinely curious as to what was going on, so she got out of bed and quietly made her way down the stairs.

Right before making it to the entrance to the kitchen, she heard someone start to cry. Peering cautiously around the corner, she peeked her head into the doorway to asses the scene. Her dad was sitting at the kitchen table, holding the hand of a crying older woman sitting across from him. He was apologizing to her. Alfred was standing right behind him, setting a box of tissues down on the table. Off a few feet to the right of everything happening was a woman, tall and beautiful. She was quiet and elegant, and Maggie felt drawn to her. But she was also very confused and overwhelmed by everything she saw. The woman then spotted Maggie and turned to face her. 

Maggie froze, she hadn’t planned on being seen. The woman walked over to her and then knelt down to be at eye level with her. “Hello little one,” she whispered, “Now who might you be?”

“I’m Maggie,” she answered, still wary.

The woman smiled at her. “It’s very nice to meet you, Maggie. My name is Diana. I’m a friend of your father’s.”

Maggie relaxed a bit after hearing this, but her eyes darted back to what was happening in the kitchen. “Is everything alright? Why is that woman crying? Who is she?” The questions came pouring out of her.

Diana sighed and took a quick glance over her shoulder. “Martha is another friend of ours, and she lost someone very special to her today…” she trailed off when Maggie looked up at her, suddenly very sad, “It is a sad day today. But everything will be alright as time goes on.”

Maggie looked back over to Martha, who was starting to calm down now. She gripped Bruce’s hand tightly. Maggie knew what it was like to lose someone special, too. She still missed her mother everyday, and she felt sad knowing that Martha was going to feel that way now as well.

Bruce glanced over when he saw movement in the doorway. He was surprised to see Maggie there with Diana down next to her. They were looking at each other intently, and then Maggie nodded. Diana stood up and then followed Maggie out of the room and towards the stairs. Bruce smiled at the sight, and his heart warmed a bit. After such an emotional and tragic night, it was the little acts of love that mattered. Maggie appeared to warm up to his new friend, and Bruce had to admit he was getting used to having her around. She emitted a calm strength that balanced him when he needed it.

He turned back to Martha and sighed as she blew her nose and tried to calm her breathing.

“Can-can I see him?” she asked.

“Of course.” Bruce got up and led her out of the door. Lois opened the door of the car once she saw Martha and the two met in an embrace. Bruce watched as the two heartbroken women let go of each other, both crying. Then Lois led her to the car and they both went inside.

Bruce took a choppy breath in and headed back inside, giving the two of them some privacy. He leaned against the door after he closed it and shut his eyes. _It’s been a long day._

Looking around him, Bruce saw that Alfred was sitting back down at the table, and Diana had entered the room again, this time without Maggie. He thought of the two of them, one being the oldest friend he's got and the other a fearless goddess. He thought of the two people outside who were supporting each other in this time of loss. He thought of Maggie, hopefully once again sleeping peacefully in her bed. 

And he thought of Clark. Everyone here meant something to Bruce. He had failed Clark, but he still had the chance to keep these people safe. He was done with being too scared to let anyone in, done with being controlled by his rage and fear. It was time to move forward. Time to let go. Things were going to be different.

\--

Superman was dead.

The entire world joined together to grieve the loss of their fallen hero. While his last few weeks were shrouded in controversy, never for a moment did the world lose its collective love for him. When they saw him, they saw hope. And sometimes hope was all they had.

But what the world didn’t see were the tears from a small town in Kansas. A fallen hero was nothing compared to the vacancy created by the death of Clark Kent. Some would always see him as the kind and mysterious boy from back home. And maybe that was enough.

Bruce took a deep breath and watched as the small crowd gathered around Clark’s grave slowly faded away. The wind was brisk, making him shiver. But for the first time he didn’t feel the cold. Not really, not like he felt it before. Times were changing.

He looked down at his side, down to Maggie, who was holding his left hand. She was wearing a long black coat and a black knitted hat which was the only thing keeping her wild hair from freely waving about in the wind. Her gaze was directed towards Clark’s grave.

After a few minutes, Lois was the only one left at Clark’s grave. She peered down at his coffin, still not sure if everything happening was real. Still holding onto hope that he wasn’t gone, that this was all a bad dream. But it wasn’t a dream. He wasn’t coming back.

Diana entered the scene and took her place next to Bruce, putting Maggie in between them.

Without turning to look at her, Bruce said, “It doesn’t seem fair.”

Diana glanced over him. “What doesn’t seem fair?”

Bruce shook his head. “The rest of the world is paying their respects to an empty box,” he paused and looked back at her, “No one knows the truth.”

“Maybe it’s better that way,” she answered thoughtfully, “They honored him the only way they knew how: as a soldier. And Clark…” she trailed off as she looked over to his grave, “This is what he would have wanted.”

“Dad?” Maggie spoke up after Diana finished. The two adults looked down at her in a synchronous motion.

“What is it, Mags?”

“I’m sorry about your friend Clark,” she said, looking up at him, “I wish I got to meet him.”

Bruce smiled sadly, “I wish you had got to meet him too, sweety. He was a good man.”

“Is Superman here, too?”

Maggie’s question caught him off guard. “No, no he isn’t honey. This ceremony was just for Clark.”

“Oh…” Maggie looked down at her feet sadly and then pulled out a sheet of paper from her jacket, “Because I wanted to give this to him… I saw lots of people on TV give him cards and flowers and so I made this.” 

Bruce grabbed the folded up sheet of paper his daughter was handing him. She had so much love to give, even after everything she’s been through. His heart filled with pride.

He then bent down and knelt next to her, paper still in hand. “I’ll make sure that it gets to him, okay Mags?”

Maggie nodded. “Thank you, dad.”

Bruce stood up and turned towards Diana. “Would you mind taking Maggie for a few minutes? I’d like to talk to Lois and uh…” he then lifted the paper and waved it around a bit.

Diana smiled. “Of course.”

Bruce flashed a small smile. “And listen, later… we need to talk,” suddenly he was very serious, “There’s work to be done, and I would greatly appreciate your help.”

Diana’s face creased in confusion, but she nodded and then took Maggie’s hand. “Come, little princess. Your father will join us in a few minutes.”

Bruce leaned down and gave Maggie a quick squeeze before she and Diana walked away. He watched them head towards the parked cars, hand in hand, giving him a small flicker of happiness.

When he turned back around, he saw that Lois was starting to walk away. He hurried over to her and caught her before she got too far. 

“Lois, wait…” he called out as he gently grabbed her arm.

She turned around, eyes filled with tears. Her cheeks were pink and warm.

“I’m truly sorry, Lois,” his voice was filled with emotion, “I didn’t know Clark for very long but I could see how much he cared for you. He was lucky to have you. I.. I wish I had gotten to know him better,” a slight pause, “I failed him.” Tears started to pool in Bruce’s eyes, forcing him to look away from her.

Lois reached forward and gave Bruce’s arm a comforting squeeze. “I loved him very much… and he loved me,” a single tear fell as she spoke, “But Bruce, this wasn’t your fault. Clark only saw the best in people, and I’m sure that’s what he chose to see in you. You’re a good man.”

A few moments of silence passed and then Lois let go of his arm, turning to walk away. Bruce said nothing, too overwhelmed by her words to reply. 

He then turned back to Clark’s grave and took out the folded paper Maggie gave him. He found himself tempted to open it and see what Maggie had created, but this gift belonged to Superman. It belonged to Clark. And so he took a handful of earth, just as Lois had a few minutes prior, and stood over his casket.

First Bruce dropped down the paper, and then he tossed in his handful of earth.

“Goodbye, Clark,” he whispered, “I won’t fail you, I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright here's the beef folks. I have less than a month left in this semester which consists of projects and papers and finals. So unfortunately that means less time for me to write fun stuff like this. I'm not sure when I'll be able to post the next chapter, but I promise there will be a next chapter. I promise!! I hope everyone is liking it so far, and thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> The second chapter is being written as we speak!


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